Chicken
by Zie Ayton
Summary: Marik and Bakura's argument over who is manlier turns into a game of Chicken, judged by Ryou. A little cracky. Thiefshipping!


_**Chicken**_

"…_and that would obviously be ME._"

"_No, it's blatantly clear that it's ME._"

Ryou sighed in exasperation as he cut a piece off a chunk of cheese and stuck the rest back in the refrigerator. It seemed that Marik and Bakura were arguing over something stupid. Again. Even knowing that he would undoubtedly regret it, he stepped into the living room, where the two were sitting in the middle of the floor. For whatever reason, they seemed to have an aversion to furniture. Ryou vaguely wondered how Marik and Bakura were friends.

"I am _far_ manlier than _you_, Marik!"

"Oh really? Why don't you _prove_ it then?"

"All right. Let's play a game to see who's manlier." He turned to Ryou, who was standing apprehensively in the entrance. "And _you_ can judge."

"Me and my curiosity," he muttered. "What am I judging?"

Bakura considered. "How about a game of Chicken?"

A frown spread across Marik's face. "You mean the one where you run at each other and whoever turns away first loses?"

"Not exactly. I was thinking something more refined. Like say…"

Ryou got the distinct feeling that he _really_ didn't want to be judging this.

"…kissing? Because whoever can hold out the longest obviously has the most stamina, which is a clear indicator of manliness."

There was no holding back a snort. Ryou tried his best to cover it up by coughing. "Just choked a little," he said to the stares he received. Maybe Bakura was _trying_ to be counterproductive. Because the only thing this game of Chicken could possibly prove was which one of the two was gayer. Ryou groaned. He really, _really_ didn't want to have to tell one of them that he was gayer than the other. But if he didn't stay, Bakura would surely just drag him back, probably tie him down too. He settled into the couch in resignation and rested his chin in his palm.

"I don't want to kiss _you_!" Marik said.

"Then you concede that I'm the manlier of us?" Bakura replied with a smirk.

"…fine." Clearly he was determined to win this argument. Marik scooted across the floor until he was sitting back on his feet, face-to-face with Bakura.

"Whenever you're ready, Ryou."

As if he could ever be ready to watch Marik and Bakura making out in his living room. "Go on." He took a bite out of his cheese.

They hesitated, both making faces of disgust before leaning in with clear reluctance. Their eyes were screwed shut as though they were going through the most painful experience of their lives.

Ten seconds in, Ryou was marveling at how long they were lasting. He had expected Bakura to pull away the moment their lips touched. Looked like he hadn't thought this through as thoroughly as Ryou had thought. His eyes widened in surprise when the competitors' faces relaxed.

Marik leaned in a little; Bakura responded by placing his hands on Marik's waist and _pushing_, sending them both toppling to the ground, Bakura on top. Marik's slender hands twisted into Bakura's hair.

Ryou ate another bite of his cheese, wondering how much longer he had to sit and watch.

After some struggle, Marik managed to roll himself on top of Bakura, who sat up and leaned back against the overstuffed armchair behind him. Marik curled his legs in and sank into Bakura's chest.

With a sigh, Ryou looked at the clock on the wall. This had been going on for about five minutes now. He was pretty sure a game of Chicken was not supposed to last this long. "Can I—" He cut off at the threatening hand gesture he received from Bakura and let out an exasperated sigh. He had no more cheese with which to occupy himself.

Marik's and Bakura's tongues came out to join in the game. Their breathing had all but stopped—it seemed that neither wanted to break for air, for fear he would be accused of pulling back. A moan came from the intertwined mess of limbs on the floor.

"You know," Ryou commented, "this game only works if you're both straight."

The thieves' eyes snapped open and widened as an almost visible wave of horror at what had just happened washed over them. They jerked apart simultaneously, spluttering and wiping their mouths on their arms. "I AM _PERFECTLY_ STRAIGHT!" they exclaimed.

"Uh-huh."

"For the record," Marik said to Bakura, "I was totally imagining you as a girl."

"Oh, is _that_ why you were curled up in my lap?"

"Your hair's too long!"

"You wear make-up!"

"Your voice is stupid!"

"Your shirt exposes your abs!"

"I bet you like them!"

"Maybe I do!"

Their faces had gotten closer with every snide remark, until they were once again nose-to-nose, eyeing each other's lips. Marik shoved Bakura back against the couch—making Ryou jump—and settled against him as their lips met halfway.

"I'm gonna go finish my math homework," Ryou announced before standing and leaving the two to whatever "manly" escapades they got themselves into.

* * *

><p>Well, there's my slightly cracky thiefship. For the record, the inspiration came half from a bisexual guy's coming out story on TV Tropes, half from LadyBlackwell. Hope you enjoyed! Reviews are loved and cherished!<p> 


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